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“Maddoc Gray? I’ve got a business proposition for you.”
He doesn’t even blink, but the lean man next to him goes motionless, his body so still that it’s unnerving as every ounce of his focus locks on to me. Dante, on the other hand, stays sprawled out and so relaxed that I’d almost think he wasn’t paying attention… if I couldn’t feel his eyes drilling into me too.
I ignore them both and keep my eyes on Maddoc. He’s the one who matters right now.
He looks me up and down without changing his expression, cold and uninterested. The silence lingers for a long moment before he speaks.
“No, you don’t,” he says. Then he turns back to his men, dismissing me.
Dammit.
“How do you see that playing out without pissing off The Six, Logan?” Maddoc asks the man next to him, obviously picking up the thread of the conversation I interrupted as if I’m not still standing right fucking here, and when the other man’s—Logan’s—eyes flick my way, I get the sense that whatever they’re talking about, Logan doesn’t approve of Maddoc airing it out in front of me.
After giving me a quick, appraising glance, Logan lowers his voice and murmurs a reply that I don’t even try to follow, dismissing me as thoroughly as Maddoc did.
When I shift my attention to Dante, he gives me a bland look in return, no sign at all of the heat that flashed in his gaze a second ago.
I feel like an idiot standing in front of their table while they ignore me as if I’m invisible. But I lick my lips and force myself to forge ahead.
“I need your help,” I say, a little more forcefully this time.
Maddoc and Logan carry on as if I haven’t even spoken, and after the tiniest hesitation, Dante follows their lead, leaning forward to join the conversation they’re having.
Goddammit. They can’t turn me away. Not without at least hearing what I have to say.
I slam my palm down on the table, the loud smacking sound cutting across the noise of the bar. A few people glance our way before quickly turning back to their drinks, and my heart pounds like a drum, a sudden surge of adrenaline making my voice shake a little when I speak again.
“I said I need your help. And I’ll make it worth your while.”
Maddoc turns his gray eyes on me, and if I thought Logan’s were icy, they’ve got nothing on the cold look this man pins me with. “And I said… not interested.”
“I don’t care if you’re not interested,” I say bluntly, and it’s true. I’ve got nothing at all if I can’t save Chloe. “I need you. My sister—” My throat tightens, but I swallow hard and keep going. “My sister was taken by the West Point Gang this morning. I need your help getting her back.”
“Why?” Logan demands at the same moment Dante speaks.
“West Point?” His brows draw together, and he drums his fingers on the table top. “You sure about that, princess?”
I’ve suddenly got their attention, all three of them fully focused on me.
“I’m sure.” My voice is tight as I nod. “They were wearing...”
I hold up my hand and run my fingers over the base of my knuckles, and the three Reapers nod.I don’t even have to describe it with words. Of course they know about the gold rings that West Point members wear.
“And I caught two of their names,” I add. “Brett and Austin.”
Logan goes unnaturally still again, and Dante stops drumming his fingertips against the table.
Maddoc’s gaze sharpens like a knife.
“Austin,” he repeats in a cold voice. “Austin McKenna?”
I’m wound so tight I want to snap back with something snarky about not having remembered to ask for his ID, but I resist. Now that I’ve got their attention, I need to get them to say yes to helping, not piss them off even more.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “He has dark hair, wears it slicked back, and scowls a lot. He’s pretty tall, maybe six foot even?”
“Definitely sounds like McKenna,” Dante murmurs.
I swallow hard. “I’ve heard that the Reapers… don’t get along with West Point,” I say, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest as all three of them react subtly to my words.
